


Timing Is Everything

by HPTrio



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkwardness, Fingerfucking, First Time, Kissing, Multi, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 09:16:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPTrio/pseuds/HPTrio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one actually believed Harry, Ron and Hermione could spend that much time alone in a tent while keeping everything on a purely platonic level, did they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timing Is Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Trio Big Bang at hp_3forfun on LiveJournal for the prompt "Three characters totally oblivious about sex, learning and experimenting together as a group".
> 
> If this particular "pairing" is not your personal cup of tea, please keep checking under my user name. I plan to archive all my work here and, while everything I've written is in the Harry Potter fandom, I write several different pairings; het, slash and multi.

The first time it happened, we blamed it on the Horcrux. It was easier that way. Surely someone who had suffered under the influence of an evil spirit for as many weeks as we had couldn’t be held accountable for his or her actions, right?

Ron had only just come back a few days before and even though I was really hurt and angry that he left us in the first place, I simply _had_ to forgive him. Never mind he’d been wearing that bloody Horcrux when he lost his temper and stormed out on Harry and me; if he hadn’t come back when he did, Harry would have died in that lake trying to retrieve Gryffindor’s sword. I can’t even imagine how devastated I would have been if I went looking for Harry and found him drowned, not to mention I’d still have an intact Horcrux to deal with. It’s hard to stay mad at someone who saves your best friend’s life _and_ manages to destroy a Horcrux. But as I said, that’s really what started it all. Or maybe I’m just deluding myself because it’s easier than admitting my own lack of self-control where the boys are concerned. Well, not _all_ boys … just these two.

I let Ron stew for a good long while over whether or not I’d really forgiven him; it was rather fun having both him and Harry walking on eggshells trying to keep me from getting my knickers in a knot. Thinking back, that should have been a clue really. While Ron was gone, Harry was moping over missing him almost as much as me. One would think Harry would have been a little hacked off over Ron’s rather mean comment about Harry not having parents and his rather abrupt departure, but no, Harry had immediately taken Ron’s side when he returned, forgetting how hurt he was when Ron left us.

I think Harry realized long before either of us that Ron and I fancied one another, so I think that’s partly why Harry wanted to be sure I wasn’t still mad at Ron. I think Harry found the idea of his two best friends as a couple brilliant, but I also think the closer Ron and I seemed to doing anything about it, the more left out Harry felt. And I think Ron and I used Harry – or maybe the whole war with You-Know-Who – as an excuse to postpone doing anything about our feelings for each other once we started to recognize them ourselves. Of course, there was also the fact that Ron and I both realized we weren’t ready to give up Harry for the sake of a relationship, and neither of us knew quite what to make of that back then. If I was having trouble admitting to myself that I might just fancy Harry a bit as well, I can only imagine what the notion that Ron might be attracted to Harry was doing to him.

Anyway, it was getting late and we’d just had our dinner. Ron and Harry had gone outside the tent to have a look around as they were finishing off the last of the Butterbeer Ron brought back with him, and I had just finished clearing up our dishes. I picked up a copy of The Daily Prophet - another benefit of Ron’s return - and sat down at the table to read. It was a few days old, but we didn’t get much news being on the run like we were, and it was hard sometimes to get a signal on the wireless. A quick glance at the front page filled me with a sense of dread, even though I reasoned if anything too bad had happened, Ron would have told us already. Still, the headline proclaiming “13 dead in attack on Diagon Alley” gave me chills and I scanned the columns quickly, relieved there were no names there I recognized, although I did wonder if ‘Miranda Abbott’ might be related to Hannah.

I flipped the page and rolled my eyes at another headline, this one proclaiming “HARRY POTTER: HERO IN HIDING, OR MERELY A COWARD WHO RAN?” Apparently a group of Slytherins had given an interview concerning their speculation on Harry’s whereabouts. I snorted at some of the stranger theories offered. Would anyone _actually_ believe Harry was in the Highlands looking for Snorkacks with a looney blonde Ravenclaw? Then I frowned, wondering if Luna really wasn’t at school.

I should have been more cautious – I would have been if not for my distraction over Luna – but I shrieked rather loudly when I saw the moving photo of the Slytherins who gave the interview. It wasn’t the sight of the Slytherins that shocked me; it was the two Gryffindor students snogging and groping one another in a little alcove in the background.

Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley!

Naturally, Ron and Harry had come running in with wands drawn, ready for battle in reaction to my outburst. I had no time to hide the paper away or come up with any plausible cause for my reaction. All I could do was reluctantly push the paper toward Harry when he demanded an explanation. I exchanged a worried look with Ron as Harry’s eyes moved past the infuriating headline toward the photo below. Ginny’s red hair was impossible to miss.

Harry’s expression was unreadable, and no one spoke for several moments. He finally broke the silence, but not with anything Ron or I had expected to hear.

“Why wouldn’t Luna be at Hogwarts?”

Ron just gaped at his mate in confusion. “What?”

“Luna,” Harry said, pointing to the bit about searching for Snorkacks as if he hadn’t seen the photo of his girlfriend with Neville’s hand cupping her breast. “Says I’ve gone off with a looney blonde Ravenclaw.” Ron peered at the paper and shook his head.

“You can’t really call Rita Skeeter and a bunch of Slytherins reliable sources,” Ron tried to rationalize. “We don’t _know_ that Luna isn’t at school.”

Ron and I allowed Harry to draw our attention away from the unexpected turn in his love life for a little while. The three of us spent several minutes laughing over some of the crazy theories suggested by the Slytherins, but then I just _had_ to dig into it. Ron always said I never knew when to shut up.

“You’re not mad with Neville and Ginny are you, Harry?” I began tentatively. “I mean, I know you expected you and Ginny would get back together once You-Know-Who is gone, but you _did_ break things off with her after Dumbledore’s funeral.”

Poor Harry nearly choked on the last of his Butterbeer, managing to suck a bit of it into his windpipe. Ron winced in sympathy as he clapped Harry on the back; not only had I just hit his best mate with the tender issue of his apparently failed relationship with Ron’s little sister, I’d also dredged up one of the saddest events of the previous school year and nearly killed the savior of the Wizarding world in the process. Way to go, Granger!

“What?” Harry sputtered as he struggled to clear his windpipe.

“I know you’re upset that she’s apparently moved on, Harry, but you …”

“Leave the man alone, Hermione. He’ll talk about it when and _if_ he wants to.” Ron knew he was risking getting me mad at him all over again, but I knew he couldn’t help himself. It was his job to protect Harry. He reached up and rubbed one of Harry’s shoulders reassuringly, and I could almost see the wheels turning inside his head as he searched for some topic to redirect the conversation.

“You should’ve been there when Harry and I killed that locket, Hermione,” he started. “Harry hissed at it in Parseltongue and it opened up and all this wicked black smoke came billowing out. The force sort of knocked us both on our arses, then there were these huge spiders and”

I interrupted him, “That’s because it was focused on you, Ron. It’s a piece of You-Know-Who, so of course it’s going to use your greatest fears against you.”

“Oh, right, well that explains what happened nex...” Ron trailed off, knowing he’d said too much.

After a long, awkward silence, I couldn’t stand it any more. “So what exactly _did_ happen next?”

Ron looked at Harry for help and Harry was looking anywhere but at Ron, so it was obvious they didn’t want to tell me, which of course made me want to know all that much more. “Well?” I demanded.

Ron’s lips were pinched together so tight it looked painful and his ears were turning red, so I turned to Harry and just glared at him.

“Well, there was this image,” Harry began tentatively, “that sort of formed out of the smoke and it kinda looked like us, Hermione, and there was a voice that was saying horrible things like Ron was his mum’s least favorite son, and that you could never love him when you could have, well, umm, me, and umm … we were kissing and, umm, we, umm, … didnthaveanyclotheson.”

I suppose I just stood there looking a little gobsmacked as I tried to work out that last little bit of what Harry said, so he continued.

“So anyway, Ron ran at it with the sword and smashed it, and viola, dead Horcrux.”

“Ron,” I began rather nervously, “you didn’t really believe what that thing said, did you?’

I’m not sure if I was talking about him being Mrs. Weasley’s least favorite or about me not loving him, or even about me being able to have Harry, but I felt like I had to find some way to reassure him. After all, he was my best friend.

“He shouldn’t believe it,” Harry said rather forlornly. “I mean, there is no way Hermione would want me instead of you, Ron. I’m rubbish at kissing; Ginny was probably relieved ...”

“Oh, Harry,” I interrupted again. I guess I just couldn’t help myself sometimes. “You most certainly are not rubbish at kissing! I’m sure your kissing is perfectly satisfactory.”

“Well, apparently ‘satisfactory’ isn’t good enough then because Cho cried the whole time I was kissing her, and now Ginny is off snogging Neville,” Harry whined, and Ron looked at him rather gratefully for getting away from the Horcrux discussion. “I must be really bad if even Neville kisses better than I do.”

“Don’t look at it that way, mate.” Ron tried to sound reassuring, since Harry was quickly working himself into a snit trying to rescue his mate. “I’m sure you kiss at least as well as me or Hermione do.”

I ignored Ron’s grammar and glared at his backhanded insult, although he was probably right, but Harry began to laugh then.

“Right, because you’ve both had so much practice,” Harry snorted, then looked over at Ron. “No offense, mate, but all that slobbering you and Lavender did in the common room last year was kind of disgusting, and Hermione, I’d hardly call Viktor or Cormac the ideal learning partners.”

I gasped in outrage at the mention of Cormac - as if I’d let that vile git put his mouth on me - but Harry ploughed on.

“You’ve fancied each other at least since third year and unless I’ve missed something, you haven’t even snogged each other yet. So how on earth would you know if I’m rubbish at kissing?”

“We could find out.”

The words were out of my mouth before I even realized I was thinking them; certainly before I realized their full implication, but then it was too late to take them back. Both boys stared at me as if I’d grown a second head, but I took a deep breath and soldiered on. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon, and all that rot, right?

“Look, none of us has any real experience in this area, except perhaps Ron if you count Lavender – _which I don’t._ We practice hexes and curses and healing spells on one another to get better for facing Death Eaters and You-Know-Who – to keep us _alive_ during this bloody war. What’s wrong with practicing something like snogging to help us get better at something that will give us a shot at _living_ if we actually manage to survive? There _will be_ life after this war if we do the rest of it right.”

Ron looked like Christmas had come early. Harry looked like a first year caught out after curfew by Professor Snape.

“Oh, come on,” I cajoled. “How hard can it be?”

Ron turned bright red and looked at Harry, who snorted, then started to laugh about the time he realized from the look on my face that I’d recognized the double meaning of what I’d just asked.

“Oh, grow up, you two! Somebody come kiss me so we can find out if Harry really is rubbish.”

I have to admit it was a little strange at first, kissing as a form of research, but in a way that probably made it easier for me to kiss both of them without thinking about what I was doing, especially with the other one watching while I did it.

Ron kissed me first, after some verbal nudging from Harry. I won’t say that kissing Ron was brilliant that first go, but it certainly wasn’t bad. I wouldn’t allow myself to laugh, but I couldn’t help thinking about what Harry had said about kissing Cho being wet, only with Ron it wasn’t that anyone was crying, but that he opened his mouth a little too far. His tongue was everywhere, as if he were trying to devour me like he would a particularly tasty pudding. I suppose I should have been flattered.

Harry was not rubbish at kissing, but he _was_ very timid about it at first, probably because Ron was watching us. We both sort of jumped apart when Ron spoke.

“No, mate, you’re doing it wrong. Well, not _wrong_ exactly, but you saw how that image of you in the Horcrux was kissing her. Do it like that.”

Harry looked at Ron, who looked back at him, and it was clear they were doing that thing they do sometimes where they have a conversation without anyone ever uttering a word. Usually it infuriates me because I can’t tell what they’re saying, but this time it was pretty obvious Harry was asking Ron if he was sure, and Ron was reassuring Harry that it was okay.

I felt like the last biscuit in the tin at afternoon tea.

That was the last conscious thought I had because Harry grabbed me then. He tangled one hand in my hair and let the other rest at the small of my back to pull me tightly against his body as his lips descended on mine. I think I might have gasped in surprise and Harry took advantage of my lips being parted to slip his tongue into my mouth and explore it quite thoroughly, but with more of a sense of direction than Ron’s tongue had. I remember a vague notion that it was good my parents were dentists so Harry would find my teeth nice and even, and I remember being a little dizzy when Harry pulled away so we could both breathe.

I cast my eyes downward to avoid looking either boy in the eye just at that moment, but looking down meant my gaze was somewhere in the vicinity of their groins and it didn’t take the most observant person in the world to notice they were both tenting their trousers. I briefly wondered if I’d started something I might not be able to handle, so I searched around in my head for some way to douse their arousals a bit.

I said the first thing that came to mind, figuring the idea would hit them both like a Bludger to the stomach. “Ok, now you two kiss each other.”

“What?” squawked Harry, as Ron squeaked out a rather high-pitched “Huh?”

“Well, the original idea was to see if Harry is rubbish at kissing, and good research always requires a second test, plus the secondary goal was to train us all up a bit in our snogging technique. Surely you don’t expect me to do twice as much work as either of you, and if you don’t kiss each other, that’s exactly what I’ll have to do.”

I couldn’t help smiling at my words. That was superior logic, even for me.

It took them awhile, with a bit more coaxing from me, to actually give in and kiss each other. I could tell they both wanted to because the strain on their denims failed to diminish even slightly, but neither of them seemed willing to admit it. I hadn’t counted on my own reaction when Harry finally tangled his fingers in Ron’s hair and used his other hand to pull Ron into their first kiss. It was tentative, sort of a chaste meeting of lips that were still firmly closed, but as I stared avidly at the two of them, I saw Harry’s tongue dart out and brush teasingly along Ron’s bottom lip as if daring him to open up.

Ron’s eyes opened in surprise, but then they closed and he opened his mouth just enough to let Harry’s tongue slip inside, and I think that’s when I moaned. I will always remember that moment as one of the most erotic things I have ever seen. Neither of the boys noticed the sound I made because their bodies had pressed together as their tongues battled for control inside Ron’s mouth, and Ron was sort of rocking the bulge in his trousers against the one in Harry’s, and I shifted in my seat as I noticed my knickers getting uncomfortably damp.

By the time they broke apart for air, we were all panting and flushed.

Ron pulled me into his arms and kissed me again. Apparently he was a quick study because this time his technique was much more like Harry’s, and I couldn’t even work up any righteous indignation when I felt him rutting a little against my hip. In fact, to be honest, I think I was a little thrilled by feeling how hard he was.

I chanced a look at Harry, who had stepped a respectable distance away to give Ron and me room to snog, and his face turned almost Weasley red when he realized I was watching him as he palmed his erection through his denims. I just held out my hand to get him to come back to us.

We didn’t go any farther than kissing that night, but we _practiced_ until we were all flushed and panting, while yawning and struggling to stay awake. I don’t know about the boys – although I certainly have my suspicions – but once I was secure in the privacy of my bed, I slipped my fingers past the elastic of my soaking wet knickers and worked myself into what was probably the most intense orgasm I have ever had by my own hands.

The next morning, no one actually mentioned what we’d done the night before and everyone carefully ignored the fact that our lips were all a little kiss swollen and our cheeks had mild cases of beard burn. We had a busy day, packing up and moving camp to a new location, and I really thought the previous night might have been a one off, but we settled into the new camp and fell into an exhausted sleep only to wake up the next day to a horrendous downpour.

After breakfast, we spent awhile lounging about reading – me in some of the dark magic books we’d brought from the Black family library, looking for anything I could find on Horcruxes or really anything that might prove useful, and Harry searching out new hexes and curses in the books Professor McGonagall loaned us from what had been Professor Dumbledore’s office. Ron started out reading a Quidditch magazine, but after a particularly nasty glare from me and a nudge from Harry, he thought better of it and helped Harry with the hexes and curses.

By afternoon, our eyes were starting to cross. It was still raining, so we decided we’d practice some of the new stuff the boys had found. After shattering our only mirror twice and setting a blanket on fire three times, Harry suggested we try practicing Muggle defensive techniques instead.

That worked pretty well as long as we concentrated on blocking punches and dodging kicks, but our focus shifted pretty quickly once we got into maneuvers that involved more physical contact.

When I lunged at Harry, holding my hairbrush as if it were a knife, he quickly shifted to one side to dodge the brush while sweeping his foot behind my calves and pulling my feet out from under me. We both crashed to the floor, which thankfully had a good cushioning charm, and he pinned my hands above my head while I struggled to catch my breath. I hadn’t noticed exactly how he was sitting on me until I began to feel him harden as I panted and struggled beneath him. Our eyes met and we both flushed a little, but neither said a word as he pushed himself up and off, and held out a hand to help me to my feet. I quickly dusted myself off and turned to tell Ron to have a go as I needed some water.

I made my way into our little kitchen and sat down at the table, dropping my head into my hands and breathing heavily. The dynamic between the three of us had definitely shifted; I just wasn’t sure what we should do with it.

I transfigured an empty cereal box into a tray, fixed three glasses of water and carried them back into our training space. The boys were rolling about on the floor, Harry still brandishing my hairbrush and Ron holding a length of rope. Ron, being the larger of the two, pinned Harry in place in fairly short order and knocked the brush from his hand. Holding both Harry’s wrists in one hand, he looped the rope around Harry’s neck with the other and tugged menacingly, ostensibly demonstrating what a perilous position Harry was in. Harry saw me watching them and winked, then he stretched his neck up and sealed his mouth on Ron’s in a searing kiss. Ron gasped in shock and slackened his grip on Harry’s wrists and the rope just enough to give Harry the chance he needed. He flipped them over and rested his full weight on Ron, holding his hands down with each of his own.

I couldn’t see between them, but between Ron’s panicked look and his red ears, I knew at least one of the boys had an erection at this point; I was betting they both did.

“Anyone fancy a cool drink?” I asked cheerfully, hoping to lighten the tension.

The boys awkwardly rolled apart and tried to discreetly adjust themselves, but Muggle denims did little to hide their obvious arousals. I handed them each a glass, which they gratefully accepted and began to guzzle the water to avoid looking at one another or at me.

It was painfully obvious at that point that we weren’t going to get anything accomplished with all the sexual tension in the air, so it seemed to me we needed to work that out first. We were adults, and we were obviously all somewhat attracted to one another. We were also painfully inexperienced, so it probably wouldn’t take much.

“Maybe we should just practice our snogging,” I suggested casually. “You know, relieve a little tension?”

Ron spat out a huge gulp of water, then turned to glare at me. I made a mental note to keep my mouth shut in future when the boys were drinking.

“Right,” Harry said, a little sharply. “Because _that_ certainly won’t create more.”

Ron, of course, was on my side once he got past his little choking spell. No surprise there really, and before long, we were all tangled in a heap on the rug in front of the fire, taking turns exploring one another’s mouths with lips and tongues. I think I liked watching Harry and Ron kissing almost as much as I liked having either one of them kissing me. There was something deliciously forbidden about it, exciting, and the more enthusiastic their kisses became, the more I felt like I needed something … else.

Harry mumbled something about it being too hot by the fire and took my hand and Ron’s and pulled us toward our little sleeping area. He pulled back the privacy curtain that separated my cot from his and Ron’s and thrust my wand into my hand since his was broken. I transfigured all three cots into one big bed and we all piled onto it. The kissing resumed, and I soon found myself breathless from being snogged senseless by Harry, only to have Ron take over when Harry pulled away for air. When Harry joined in again, kissing my jaw and my neck, it really didn’t seem much cooler even though we’d moved away from the fire.

I begged for air when Ron pulled away, before Harry could take over again, so the boys focused on kissing each other. As I lay there, panting against the headboard and watching them devour one another, I realized the urge to touch myself was almost unbearable, and I wondered just how far I was willing to take this. The boys’ arousal was unmistakable by then, and I’m not sure when I’d ever felt so needy. I wasn’t even sure what I thought I needed, but in a moment of sheer desperation when they broke for air, I grabbed Ron’s hand and pulled it to my breast before I leaned in to suck on Harry’s tongue.

Evidently that one simple act threw all notion of propriety between us out the window because twenty minutes later, we were all down to our underwear and our cheeks were permanently stained red from embarrassment, but that didn’t deter us from exploring one another’s bodies.

We never actually took off all our clothes that night, but by the time we slipped into the most peaceful sleep any of us had enjoyed since our quest began, both boys were familiar with the lacy scratch of my bra and the shape and weight of my breasts in their palms, and they’d been amazed by the silky wetness between my legs when I let their fingers explore underneath the elastic of my knickers.

I had my first real orgasm with Ron’s fingers inside me and Harry’s fingers on my clit – those two elevate teamwork into an art form – then the boys sort of ground themselves against each other through their boxers while they kissed until they both came in their pants. I didn’t tell them, but I almost came again just from watching them.

~*~*~*~H~Hr~R~*~*~*~

I really expected things to be awkward the next morning, but they weren’t. I woke up first, feeling well-rested and warm, snuggled in between Harry and Ron. It was a difficult job extricating myself from between them because Ron’s arm was draped heavily across my waist from behind, and Harry had wedged one of his legs between my knees so that I was effectively pinned down from the front as well, but I shifted around as gently as I could – taking curious note of the “morning wood” nudging me from both sides (maybe I’d get the chance to explore that later) – and managed to crawl out from between them so I could fix us a spot of breakfast. I couldn’t help smiling as the two of them just shifted in together to take up the space I’d vacated and Ron’s arm circled protectively around Harry’s middle. The smell of bacon finally called the boys from the bed, and I never asked how they’d reacted to waking up curled around one another, but they seemed fine so I left it alone.

The sun was out again and it was a beautiful day. I sat out in the sunshine reading – researching – while the boys plotted their strategy for our next move and dueling one another. We talked about visiting Xenophilius Lovegood because Harry wanted to ask him about the symbol he was wearing round his neck at Bill’s wedding. We’d seen it in a few other places since then, curious places, and we both felt it might be important, but we decided it could wait a bit longer.

It was surprising, when we went in for the night, how the relaxed atmosphere of the day shifted into a tangible hunger we all could feel. Dinner that night was merely a formality; it was going to take much more than food to satisfy our appetites.

We danced around the issue after we ate, each of us wanting to pick up where we’d left off the night before, but no one wanting to be the first to bring it up. The casual touches as we brushed against one another washing up the dishes and putting them away were awkward and our faces flushed at even the slightest contact. I was luckier than the boys, I suppose, because my arousal wasn’t as _visible_ as theirs. Harry was the first to crack, or perhaps he was the most Gryffindor of the lot of us.

“This is crazy. We’re all wound so tight we’re about to burst. The snogging is brilliant and the touching is fantastic, but it is _supposed_ to be the two of you and I’m just in the way here. I’m going out to keep watch, and you two go ... well, just, you know, carry on.”

Harry grabbed his jacket and started for the door, but Ron grabbed his wrist and turned him back to face us both.

“No, Harry,” he said softly. “Wherever this is leading us, we’re all going together. I know you think you’re keeping Hermione and me apart, and in a way maybe you’re right, but not how you think. I think part of the reason Hermione and I haven’t gotten together before now is that even though we fancy each other, we aren’t ready to be together if it means not having you, too.”

Ron and I hadn’t discussed this at all, and I was a little gobsmacked at his insight, but I figured now was the time to follow his lead. “Stay with us, Harry.”

He looked between the two of us, and the doubt was plainly obvious on his face, but there was hope there as well. I nudged Ron’s shoulder, because he needed to be the one to convince Harry things really could work between the three of us, so he bravely stepped forward and pulled Harry into a kiss.

It was a little hesitant at first – not on Ron’s part, but on Harry’s. I think Harry was afraid we were only including him because of what we’d seen in the paper, but that really wasn’t it at all. All that picture did was let Ron and me include Harry in our relationship without feeling guilty about trying to take him away from Ginny.

I’ve always heard timing is everything.

I’m not really sure how we found our way into our transfigured bed, but I remember thinking it was rather telling that we’d made it up that morning as one big bed instead of turning it back into three separate cots.

It took almost no effort to get us all stripped down to our underwear. There was lots of kissing; me with each of the boys and the boys with each other, and it didn’t take me long at all to figure out I _really_ liked watching the two of them together. They were both beautiful in a very masculine way and the Muggle view of homosexuality made it feel very forbidden, which just somehow gave it an extra level of appeal that I couldn’t even pretend to understand. It occurred to me that I didn’t really know how wizards viewed homosexual relationships, but I reasoned it would not be encouraged, even if people didn’t find it unnatural, since the population was already dwindling.

We crossed the next line in our explorations while Harry was kissing me. I was on my back and he was stretched out along my right side with one hand tangled in my hair. His other arm was draped across my waist with his right leg wedged between mine. I could feel Harry’s erection pressed against me as Ron kissed along the side of my neck and down over my collarbone to nip at the lace of my bra while I struggled not to rub my crotch against Harry’s thigh. I suppose it was silly in a way, considering I was laying on a bed half-naked between my two male best friends, but I didn’t want to seem completely wanton.

When Ron’s hand snaked behind me to fumble with the clasp to my bra and he muttered “Okay?” with a hopeful look on his face, all I could do was nod.

“Budge up a sec, Harry,” Ron instructed as he opened the hooks and pulled the fabric away, exposing my bare breasts to their hungry eyes.

I’m sure I flushed under their scrutiny, but Harry murmured “beautiful” as he returned his mouth to mine and Ron leaned in to taste my left nipple. I can still remember feeling the little bud harden at the first touch of his tongue, and being surprised to feel a zing between my legs. I’d never felt anything _there_ before when my nipples hardened from the cold. I made a mental note to research the difference in cause and effect.

Harry was apparently watching Ron with one eye as we kissed and when he saw what Ron was doing and realized I wasn’t stopping him, he moved his hand from my waist up to cup my other breast and used his thumb to tease that nipple to hardness as well.

Merlin, it was too much … and it was not nearly enough. I’m sure polite society would say I should have slapped Ron when his hand slipped down beneath the waistband of my knickers, his fingers gliding through the slickness to press inside me, but honestly I almost cried with sheer gratitude. It felt _so good,_ and instead of making any attempt to stop him, I just spread my legs farther apart to give him better access. Polite society could go bugger itself. It had clearly never been in bed with Harry and Ron.

Harry must have been watching because he moaned when I moved my leg and Ron made an “mmm” sound against my breast and pushed his fingers deeper inside me, rubbing my clit with his thumb. It didn’t take long before I was coming, gushing over Ron’s fingers, and crying out his name and Harry’s into Harry’s mouth.

Ron slipped his hand out of my knickers as Harry pulled back from our kisses to look at us. I was more than a little embarrassed because Ron held his fingers up and they were positively shining with my juices. Harry grabbed Ron’s wrist and pulled Ron’s hand toward his face, and I was completely mortified when Harry breathed in deeply. I know he could smell me on Ron’s hand, but my mortification was fast forgotten when Harry sucked the two fingers that had been inside me into his mouth and made a sound like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. I think I might have moaned when Ron pulled his hand out of Harry’s mouth and leaned in to kiss him, saying something about Harry needing to share my flavour with him.

They sort of lost themselves in kissing each other for awhile, and I really didn’t mind, especially when Ron pushed Harry onto his back and crawled on top of him. Even though watching them together was a huge turn-on for me, I’d already come once so I wasn’t feeling that same sense of urgency that I’d been feeling when Ron was nibbling at my nipple and Harry was kissing me. Or maybe I was because I hadn’t even noticed I’d started rubbing myself through my soaked knickers until the boys came up for air. Harry took one look at me and said, “Oh, fuck!”

Ron rolled off of him and they both held out their hands in invitation to me. I crawled over Ron and settled in between them, and I was instantly devoured. Ron was everywhere at once; kissing me, nuzzling my neck, nibbling my nipple. Harry was more subtle, trailing his fingertips lazily down from my shoulder to my thigh, then skimming gently over the top to climb softly upward and rest on the wet fabric between my legs. It was impossible not to notice the tips of their cocks pressing against me from both sides and it occurred to me that I’d found release, but neither of them had.

“Should I, umm … touch you?” I had asked hesitantly. While I was certain any attempt at touching them would be welcome and appreciated, not being equipped with a penis of my own, I was at a loss for how to really start, but I was quite willing to learn.

Harry’s eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store, and Ron swore. “Fuck, yeah!”

I twisted around so I was sitting between them at about mid-thigh, facing them, so I could reach them both at the same time. I touched them through their boxers at first, running my fingers gently along their lengths, just getting acquainted with how they felt. Once I’d worked up my nerve a little, I let my fingers stray into the leg openings on their pants and brushed my fingertips across their bare bollocks, marveling at the heat I felt there. But I don’t think I was really helping them any at all. In fact, I think I was actually adding to their frustration.

Okay, I _was_ a Gryffindor, after all. “Can one of you show me what I need to do?”

That was the moment of truth really. The beginning of total nudity, and it was Ron who went first. I think Harry still felt a bit like he was intruding on something between Ron and me because he was pretty insistent that Ron got to go first. Either that or Harry was Slytherin enough to realize I was going to spend an inordinate amount of time studying the first penis I had direct access to before I got around to actually wanking it and he preferred to let Ron be my test subject.

For all his macho “Fuck, yeah,” Ron was adorably bashful when it came to actually stripping off his Canons boxers. He looked happy enough about going first until I suggested he get undressed, then he blushed spectacularly and asked Harry and me to turn around while he did. Harry laughed and said it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before, what with the communal showers at school. Ron pointed out he didn’t think Harry had seen him hard before unless he’d been skulking about under his invisibility cloak perving on his dorm mates. Harry just shook his head and leaned over to kiss me and whisper something about inadequate silencing charms and bed curtains not closing properly while we waited.

Ron’s voice actually squeaked when he said we could turn around; his face was red and he was looking anywhere but at Harry and me. I turned around and stretched out beside him and Harry walked around the bed and crawled back in on Ron’s other side, probably so he could watch me more clearly.

I just stared at first, absently trailing my fingers along Ron’s hip as I studied him, rather much I’m afraid like I would a lab specimen in a Muggle Science class. I’d seen pictures, of course – anatomical illustrations in academic texts about health and human reproduction – but they hadn’t truly prepared me for my first naked erection. It was larger than I’d expected, even after having felt it pressed against me through Ron’s clothes. It jutted up proudly from a thatch of ginger curls, bobbing gently with each breath Ron took, and it curved very slightly to the right. There were no freckles on it or on his testicles that I could see, and the foreskin had all but disappeared due to Ron’s hardness. A tiny bit of pearly fluid was oozing from the slit at his crown and my research side reached out to touch my fingertip to it, testing the consistency. It was warm and sort of slick; maybe even a little bit sticky.

Ron sucked in a sharp breath and I jerked my hand away, apologizing profusely, terrified that I’d hurt him somehow.

Harry laughed and Ron blushed some more – if he’d ever actually stopped. I had sort of quit watching his face by then, as fascinated as I was by looking at his cock. Maybe I needed to think of this more as a sexual encounter rather than strictly as a learning experience.

“Hermione,” Harry managed through his laughter. “I’m sure you didn’t hurt him. Ron probably just wasn’t expecting the contact, considering how long you’ve been staring at him.”

I blushed then, and stuck my tongue out at Harry. He leered at me and said I should find something more beneficial to do with my tongue, making me blush even more. I focused my attention back on Ron, or more specifically on Ron’s groin, and took a deep breath before wrapping my fingers around his shaft. My fingers just barely touched around his girth, and as soon as I’d gripped him, Ron was shifting his hips and pushing himself though the circle of my hand. I got the idea pretty quickly and began to pump my hand up and down along his length.

It was by no means an expert hand job, but between my uncoordinated strokes and Ron’s erratic thrusts, it wasn’t very long at all before Ron’s orgasm took him. Streams of thick white semen exploded without warning – at least, none to me – from the tip of Ron’s penis, some spattering against his stomach and chest and some oozing down the shaft and over my hand. It felt a little like warm honey, but I’m afraid it looked a little like snot. I tried not to look grossed out as I grabbed my wand from the bedside table and spelled away the mess.

I glanced over at Harry, who’d been awfully quiet during all this time, and my mouth went dry. He was staring at us intently, his eyes as intensely green as I think I’ve ever seen them, and he was biting his bottom lip giving him an endearing expression that was something of a cross between aroused and shy. But as my eyes strayed from his face toward his shoulder, I could see the muscles flexing in his arm, drawing my line of sight downward to where his hand was wrapped around his own cock, stroking it very slowly.

Someone moaned, and I remember hoping it wasn’t me, but I think it was. I don’t know when Harry had taken his pants off, but I was mesmerized watching him. There was a sprinkling of dark hair across his chest and a tempting swirl of dark hair around his belly button that just begged to be touched. Actually, I wanted to rub my cheek against that swirl like a kitten rubs against someone’s ankle to get attention. There was also a line of hair leading down from the swirl that spread into a patch of dark curls surrounding his cock. I glanced back at Ron to see if he was that hairy and while he did have hair in the same places as Harry, it wasn’t as dense, and being ginger, I just hadn’t really noticed it all that much apart from his pubic hair.

Looking at Harry again, I noticed immediately that his penis was quite different from Ron’s.

“You’re circumcised, Harry!” I exclaimed in surprise. Although circumcision was fairly common in the States from what I’d read, it was somewhat unusual in the UK, even in the Wizarding communities, unless you were Jewish. I admit I didn’t know much about the Dursleys, but I didn’t think they were Jewish, or really, that they were associated with any particular religion.

Harry stopped stroking himself then and looked thoughtful. “I can’t really remember it thankfully, but I imagine the Dursleys did it to torture me. Or to make it less work for Aunt Petunia when she was changing my nappies. I can’t imagine her wanting to touch me any more than she had to in order to keep me clean.”

Ron muttered something then about ‘bloody damn Muggles’ but I didn’t quite catch what he said and didn’t want to push the issue and spoil the mood.

“Well, _I’d_ like to touch you,” I said, trying for sexy, but just sounding rather silly. “Will you teach me what you like?”

We all shuffled around on the bed, rearranging so that Harry was in the middle and I once again found myself distracted by studying male anatomy. Harry’s penis was darker than Ron’s, but I suppose that was logical because Harry’s skin was darker in general. It was straighter and I thought it was about the same length, although it was difficult to tell absolutely without them being side-by-side or actually measuring. Harry’s penis was clearly bigger around than Ron’s because my fingers didn’t quite meet when I wrapped them around his shaft. The skin felt tighter too, which I suppose made sense considering Harry didn’t have a foreskin. The biggest difference I noticed though – no pun intended – was Harry’s testicles. They were huge! Not that I had anything to compare to other than Ron except for a few academic photos, but Ron seemed quite well-proportioned and Harry’s were much larger than his.

Harry cleared his throat, politely telling me without actual words to stop studying him and start wanking him. I moved my hand very slowly, the way I’d seen him do, and he made a contented sound, but it was soon clear he wasn’t really getting as much pleasure from it as Ron had when I wanked him. I was about to ask if I should do something different when Ron wrapped his hand around mine to guide the tightness of my grip and the speed of my strokes. Harry and I both gasped in surprise at Ron’s boldness, but I think it must have turned Harry on as much as it did me because it was mere seconds before he was thrusting his hips up to meet our hands and biting his lip so hard I’m amazed he didn’t draw blood.

When Ron let go of my hand and cupped Harry’s bollocks, massaging them gently, Harry cried out my name and Ron’s a moment before shooting his release. Ron leaned down and kissed Harry, then sat up again to kiss me, and I couldn’t help thinking about what he’d seen in the Horcrux and wondering which of us he’d really been more jealous over.

Ron did the cleaning charm this time and we all squirmed about until we found comfortable positions, then drifted off into peaceful sleep with Harry still in the middle.

~*~*~*~H~Hr~R~*~*~*~

I think it was the thunder that woke me the next morning. A quick _Tempus_ told me it was way too early to be awake – just half five – but we’d actually fallen asleep earlier than usual the night before, so I wasn’t terribly surprised that I didn’t feel at all tired. Of course, that could also be owing to having two very sexy and very naked wizards in bed with me. It wasn’t really light out yet, but I was able to see the boys fairly well in the frequent flashes of lightning – well enough at least to see they were both half hard and that Ron’s hand was curled innocently in Harry’s pubic hair. I was mortified, and rather glad the boys were still asleep, when I heard myself whimper just from looking at them.

My mouth practically watered at the sight, and a number of naughty images flashed through my mind. They were almost like memories, which of course they couldn’t be memories since I knew I hadn’t had my mouth anywhere near Ron’s cock and if Ron had done anything more _personal_ to Harry than to help me wank him the night before, then I had not been privy to it. But the images haunted me, and the urge to taste Harry – well, to taste both of them really – was strong; Harry was just in the best position at the moment for me to test things out.

I shifted lower on our transfigured bed and glanced up again at the boys’ faces to be sure they were still sleeping before resting my cheek on Harry’s hip. I could smell the familiar scents that I always associated with Harry and Ron, like grass and something woodsy, but I realized with a hint of sadness that the scent of broom polish was missing as our Horcrux hunt hadn’t really allowed the boys any time for flying. There was another smell, something sort of musky but not unpleasant, that I assumed was either purely Harry or perhaps pure boy. I breathed him in deeply, committing the smell to memory so I could compare it later to Ron.

Tentatively, I reached forward with my hand, tracing the outline of one of Harry’s testicles with my index finger, and I almost jerked my hand away when his cock twitched. I’d been deprived of touching them last night because Ron, rather surprisingly, got to them first. The skin was velvety soft, but sprinkled with sufficient hair to make me rethink any immediate urge to taste them. I’d talk with the both of them later about letting me perform a depilatory charm on them. Feeling emboldened since Harry still seemed to be sleeping soundly, I slipped my hand around his sac, feeling its weight. A gentle squeeze revealed there was a harder kernel inside the warm flesh and earned me a low moan from Harry.

Reluctantly I let go of Harry’s bollock and raised up on my elbow, leaning bravely forward even though I felt as if I was trembling on the inside. I pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his shaft about midway the length and waited. Nothing. I stuck out my tongue and touched the tip to Harry’s penis at the base where it joined his testicles and licked a broad stripe up the full length with the flat of my tongue.

Harry’s eyes shot open. He gasped, I squeaked and Ron drew his wand so fast it’s a miracle Harry and I both didn’t get hexed. Once Ron realized why we were making so much noise, he just smirked and said “Bloody Hell, carry on” and settled back down to watch.

Honestly, I had not planned on moving on to oral sex at that point. I’d really only wanted to see what Harry tasted like so I could decide if I even wanted to try oral sex, but I couldn’t very well back out then. It would have been the epitome of a “cock tease” to say at that point I didn’t want to do it. I had heard the boys at school talking about girls who flirted and flaunted themselves until they got a guy all hot and bothered, then backed out on actually doing anything more than kissing, and the things they said were not flattering. I wouldn’t do that to Harry or Ron.

As we were clearly all awake at that point, I crawled over Harry’s leg and settled myself comfortably between his thighs, which he quite obligingly spread open for me. I have to admit I was rather self-conscious at this point; doing something I’d never attempted before that I had read next to nothing about beyond the very basic information that oral sex involved the mouth and tongue of one partner on the genitals of the other partner, and that the person on the receiving end often found it quite pleasurable, even to the point of achieving orgasm from the stimulation.

I wrapped my hand loosely around the base of Harry’s cock and pulled it toward me, away from his tummy where it had been resting, full and hard. I leaned in for another lick, and earned simultaneous groans from both Harry and Ron, which fueled my confidence level immeasurably. I realized I could do this! I _wanted_ to do this!

I began to lick more enthusiastically at that point, finding the taste not at all unpleasant; just skin and a hint of salt perhaps. I tried to work my way around the shaft as best I could and found all the sounds Harry was making to be quite encouraging. At some point, Ron worked his hand into the mix and began to fondle Harry’s balls, and that was when Harry got a little demanding.

“Oh God, somebody suck me,” he’d panted. “Hermione, Ron, I don’t care who, just somebody _please_ suck my cock.”

I think it was Harry needing it so much he didn’t care whether it was me or Ron who did it that made it so arousing. I was nervous, certainly, but I shifted around so I could take the head of Harry’s cock into my mouth and I wasn’t the least bit put off by the drop of fluid that trickled from his slit onto my tongue. I swirled my tongue around the head, then tried to close my lips enough to provide some friction as I attempted to slip forward, taking more of him into my mouth. I hadn’t a clue how to do what I was trying to do, but I wanted to make it pleasurable and at the same time, avoid scraping Harry with my teeth. I was a little self-conscious that Ron was watching me do this until he leaned his face in next to mine and very hesitantly touched his tongue to the base of Harry’s cock, sliding it up to meet my mouth.

It was pretty clear I couldn’t get much of Harry’s length into my mouth without choking on it, but when I pulled back to catch my breath, Ron moved up to take over for me and we sort of ended up alternating between sucking at the tip and licking along the sides, all while sharing kisses around Harry’s cock. I wasn’t all that certain what Harry thought of it at that precise moment, but I found it incredibly erotic.

When Harry warned us he was about to come, Ron and I both went to swallow him at the same time and ended up crashing our mouths together while Harry’s semen sprayed onto our lips and cheeks and dripped down onto his belly. We just sort of lay there kissing over the top of him, licking his offering from each other’s faces while he watched in a bit of a daze.

Once we’d all caught our breath a bit, Harry very shyly asked if Ron wanted him and me to take care of him. Ron blushed and said he could wait until after breakfast because he’d – and then he stammered a bit and finally ended up making a rather crude hand gesture that got the message across quite clearly. Ron’s stomach rumbled about that same time and he started to push himself off the bed, but Harry was at least thoughtful enough to ask me if I needed some attention before breakfast. I smiled and gave him a kiss and cheekily told him I could wait as well, although I was going first since he and Ron were both one ahead of me.

Apparently sex was good for us in ways other than stress release because as soon as we’d finished eating, the boys were both rushing to help me clear up our dishes. I suppose you just need the right incentives when it comes to domestic chores. After all, timing is everything.

The weather was still blessedly horrid outside, so there really wasn’t much we could do that was productive in our search for the Horcruxes or Harry’s fight against Voldemort, making it an easy decision to resume our pre-breakfast activities. After the dishes were done, we practically raced one another back to the bedroom. Since none of us had put on much in the way of clothes to begin with – Harry and Ron just their boxers and me a dressing gown – it didn’t take long before we were all naked again.

I suppose you could say we started off a little slowly, with kisses exchanged in varying combinations and kisses pressed by hungry lips to necks and shoulders and collarbones. Hands wandered and explored at their leisure, with no thought given to who was touching whom – only that it was “us” and we belonged together this way.

One minute I was stretched across Harry, kissing him, while Ron nipped at one of Harry’s nipples and teased his fingers all around Harry’s cock, but without ever actually touching it. The next thing I knew, I was on my back with Ron kissing me as Harry kissed his way down from my neck to my navel, where he paused to gently nudge my legs apart. He settled himself between them and before I had even the slightest clue what he was about – given as how Ron’s kisses had quickly become _very_ distracting once he figured out I was a girl and not dessert – Harry was pressing his face between my thighs, licking along the edges of my folds.

I admit it; I panicked a little and attempted half-heartedly to struggle away from my two boys. I hadn’t had a wash that morning and after all our exploration the night before, I was sure there was a very distinctive scent to my arousal and I didn’t want to put Harry off the idea before he even started. Ron murmured soothing words against my lips, encouraging me to let Harry taste me then and telling me he wanted to taste me as well.

As soon as I relaxed against the bed, I felt Harry’s fingers pulling me open. I’m sure my face flamed as I considered the view Harry would have at that moment, but Ron went back to kissing me and seconds later, I doubt I could have told you my own name. His tongue was exploring my mouth with a sense of thorough urgency that Harry was mimicking almost perfectly with his own tongue between my legs, and very soon I was coming and thinking ‘ohmygod, I need more.’

I didn’t realize I’d said the words aloud until Ron echoed them, and even asked if I realized what I was asking for. I bit my lip, almost shyly, although Merlin knows what I had to be modest about at that point, and nodded my head to indicate that yes, I did realize what I was asking them to do.

“Take her, Mate,” Ron said softly, and I think I probably cringed inwardly. Honestly, I didn’t care who was first between the two of them; I already knew I was in love with both of them. But I knew how Ron was sometimes sensitive over feeling like his life was always about coming in second – first to his older brothers, then later to Harry. I needn’t have worried because Harry really could be perceptive when it was important.

He crawled up beside Ron and pulled him into a very heated kiss, sharing my taste between them, then told Ron to go ahead because he was so close that he wouldn’t last long enough to make it good for me.

Of course there was a short debate back and forth between them, each making sure the other was okay with the plan, and I wanted to huff and say “still here” but instead I kept silent and waited; as I said, I really didn’t care who took me first as long as someone did very soon.

After Harry insisted another time or two that he really didn’t mind waiting, Ron was on his knees getting into position between my legs, looking quite nervous and a little bit lost. Harry settled in behind Ron and kissed his neck, whispering words I couldn’t hear, but they seemed to soothe Ron’s nerves and for that, I was grateful. One of his hands crept around Ron’s side and rubbed circles on his chest until Ron visibly relaxed back against him. Harry pulled Ron’s face around for one last kiss, then dropped his hand down to guide Ron’s erection to my entrance. Both boys groaned at that first contact, which to me spoke volumes about how connected we all were on a level that had little to do with the actual physical act of the moment. Harry used his own hip to nudge Ron forward and into me, kissing his neck again as he did.

If it had been anyone else but the three of us, it would have been beyond bizarre. For us, it was exactly the way things should have been.

The initial contact felt delicious as the crown of Ron’s cock breached me for the first time and it was my turn to make embarrassingly appreciative noises, but that lovely sensation was followed by an odd stretching feeling as Ron inched himself forward. I tried not to do it, but I’m sure I winced audibly at some point because even as much as I wanted to feel Ron inside me, I knew the act of getting him there was likely to be a bit uncomfortable. Between my mother’s informative-but-embarrassing talk two summers before, and things I’d read in books, I knew the discomfort would pass, but I also knew I had to endure it to get to that point.

I hadn’t noticed Harry moving away from Ron and toward me, but by the time the stretch was morphing into a burn, he was kissing me, distracting me from the imminent pain of Ron tearing through the thin membrane that represented the end of my virginity. Tears welled in the corners of my eyes, even though I expected and even welcomed the momentary pain. Harry kissed them away, whispering soothing words to me, and soon enough, Ron was all the way inside me.

Ron had halted his movements, giving me time to adjust to his length and girth, but once he felt me start to relax again, he began to move, creating a steady push and pull where our bodies joined. My natural lubrication eased the way for him and soon the feeling of his hard length rubbing so intimately against my inner walls was beginning to feel quite good.

Harry had moved out of the way when Ron started to move again and I glanced over to where he was sitting, watching us. He’d been on his knees when he’d kissed me and he looked like he’d just backed away and rested his bum on his heels. His knees were spread outward and his right hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking it in almost perfect time with Ron’s thrusts into me. The skin on his bollocks was stretched tight, as if they were full to bursting, and his whole body looked flushed with desire. He was a beautiful sight and I couldn’t help nudging Ron’s hip with my knee to get him to look, too.

When Ron looked at Harry, I can only describe his expression as one of pure hunger. He groaned – no, he _growled_ – and shoved into me hard, exploding deep inside. I can’t even describe how good that felt – it was hot and wet and slick, and I was _so close_ , but it just wasn’t quite enough. Ron leaned down and kissed me, and whispered he loved me, then he crawled over to Harry and kissed him just before diving down to take Harry’s cock into his mouth.

 _That_ was almost enough to push me over the edge, and I’m amazed Harry didn’t come on the spot; he already looked like he was close. He just swore and clinched his fists, and I moaned and squirmed, and crawled over to kiss Harry just seconds before he was gasping and tugging at Ron’s hair signaling him to stop before it was too late.

I’m not actually sure Ron _wanted_ to stop, but I think he realized Harry wanted more right then, so he reluctantly pulled away and pulled me into a lingering kiss to give Harry a minute or so to calm himself.

Every once in awhile, Ron and I could do that communicating without words thing, and this was one of those times. We both knew Harry was likely to balk when it came right down to crossing that final line with us, because everyone expected Ron and me to be a couple, and for that matter, everyone expected couples to be just two people, but we knew this was what was right for the three of us. The only way we truly worked was together; _all_ of us together. Ron looked at me to ask if I was sure, and I looked at him to tell him I loved him but I loved Harry, too, and I wanted this – us – and so Ron settled himself against the wall and pulled Harry back against his chest before Harry had too much chance to think. Ron reached around and circled Harry’s cock with his hand, holding it up on offer to me. I straddled both their legs and sank down on Harry, sucking in a sharp breath as I remembered Harry was a little bigger around than Ron. Thankfully, there was more than enough lubrication from the combination of my own fluids and Ron’s semen to ease the way.

Harry cried out and bucked his hips toward me as he threw his head back against Ron’s shoulder. He turned his head toward Ron, seeking his mouth. I couldn’t help thinking how beautiful they were together as I rode Harry toward my own completion and his as well.

~*~*~*~H~Hr~R~*~*~*~

Looking back, I can’t help wondering what sort of world we might be living in now if the three of us hadn’t crossed that line between love and friendship when we did. That night we gave our virginity to one another was our last in the tent. We’d gone to visit Xenophilius Lovegood the next day and Apparated away from his desperate call to the Death Eaters only to arrive in the midst of the Snatchers who had taken us to Malfoy Manor.

Some months after Harry killed Voldemort, the three of us were curled together in bed one night, just talking as we often did after making love, and Harry told us that Dumbledore had said it was his ability to love that set him apart from Voldemort and would make him strong enough to defeat him. He said when he walked into the Forbidden Forest to face what he believed would be his own death, he was able to do that without regret believing it would help save Ron and me, and that we would still be there to take care of each other. When he realized he had the opportunity to come back, he knew he could win because, unlike Voldemort, he had something worth living for; he had the two of us.

I’ve often wondered if Harry would have had that confidence when it mattered if the three of us hadn’t realized the depth of our love for each other before the final battle. If Harry had believed he was standing in the way of a relationship between Ron and me, and that Ginny had moved on without him, I wonder if he would have felt the same pull to come back after Voldemort cast the killing curse on him for a second time. Sometimes I suppose, timing really _is_ everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I truly hope you've enjoyed my work, and I'd really love to know what you think. If you have a moment to spare, please leave a comment. Compliments are always welcome, but constructive feedback is appreciated as well.


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